To Heal
by ChoCedric
Summary: Just because the war is over doesn't mean everything's okay. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and their friends and family struggle to survive the aftermath. But with hope and love in their hearts, they will brave all the trials and tribulations to come. Covers the first year after Deathly Hallows.
1. Release

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Welcome to my story, To Heal. There are two projects I am working on as well as this one, but I will try to update it every few days! I hope I do this story justice, what with the recovery of the trio and Ginny from the brutality of the war, the trip to Australia to retrieve Hermione's parents, the funerals, the introduction of Teddy Lupin, and the recognition that Severus Snape deserves.

If any of you recognize this first chapter, it is taken from an old one-shot I did, also called Release. It is still up in its one-shot form, but I also thought it would be good for the beginning of this story. I have looked at all the versions I have done of Harry and Ginny's first discussion after the war, and I thought this would be the best one to begin this story.

Please review and let me know what you think!

To Heal

By: ChoCedric

Chapter 1: Release

As Harry left the Headmaster's office with Ron and Hermione after his talk with Dumbledore's portrait, exhaustion swept over him in waves. All he wanted to do was to go back to Gryffindor Tower and sleep for a long, long time. He was also hungry, and the thought of Kreacher bringing him a sandwich was extremely appealing.

He gave a weak smile to Ron and Hermione as he told them what he wanted to do, and they understood immediately. They would head back to the Great Hall while Harry headed up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. As they left each other, he gave them a look that told them how grateful he was that they'd stuck by him for all the trials and tribulations of all these years.

The thought of sleep pushing him onward, Harry entered the Gryffindor common room, which looked heartbreakingly like he remembered it. It was as if a war had not happened at all. It was as though the deaths of Fred, remus, Tonks, Snape, Colin, and all the others had never occurred.

And this was too much for the young hero who had just defeated Voldemort. The cloud of grief that hung over him was unbearable. As he collapsed into one of the squashy armchairs, he rested his head in his hands and finally succumbed to the sobs that had been building up in him all year. Memories rushed back to him of all the blood which had been spilt, of Fred's lifeless eyes, of Remus and Tonks lying in the Great Hall as though asleep, of George kneeling by Fred's head with a look of deep anguish and agony on his freckled face, of Snape bleeding to death, asking to look into his eyes, his mother's eyes... God, it was too much.

He didn't think he'd cried like this in his entire life. Not when Cedric had been killed in front of him, not when he'd watched the only family he had left die, not even when he'd been unable to prevent Albus Dumbledore's death from happening right within his sights. The sobs were all-consuming, tearing his soul apart as agony ripped through his body.

At that moment, the portrait hole opened again, but Harry was oblivious to the sound, he was so deep in his heartwrenching anguish. But he did feel the arms that wound their way around him, heard the gentle voice whisper in his ear as her own tears fell down her face. "I'm here, Harry. It's okay. Let it out, love. You have every right to cry. Don't hold back."

And it made him cry all the harder. After such a long, long journey, he was finally seeing the person he wanted to see above all others, the one person he'd been longing to hold for a year but had forbidden himself to have that luxury. It was Ginny Weasley, Ginny holding him, Ginny comforting him. And he didn't even feel embarrassed. He just let himself go, tears pouring down his face like a flood. The young woman shook in his arms, now crying as hard as he was, no longer able to speak.

For long, long minutes, the two of them held each other like that, both releasing all the pent-up emotion that had been locked within them for the past year. Ginny cried for the hurt she saw in Harry, the fact that he looked so lost, vulnerable, and alone. This was a side of Harry that she didn't think even Ron and Hermione had ever seen, and she knew he wouldn't ever let them witness something like this. The fact that he was letting her in showed her that he trusted her above anyone else, that he truly did love her, and she sobbed without restraint as the love she felt for him in return overpowered her. She felt relief, such relief at the fact that he was safe and alive, but she was also experiencing suffocating guilt at feeling this way. After all, her beloved brother Fred was lying dead in the Great Hall, never to crack a joke again. She remembered George's anguished face, his horrified and pain-filled screams, and it made her feel awful that she was not with him. But she knew that even through his agony, George would tell her that Harry needed to be held up right now, so he could finally release his emotions and not have to play the martyr, the hero. He had been strong for so long; he had every right to fall apart. Ginny had always marveled at his strength, and she'd tried as well to be the lively, sassy redhead everyone thought her to be. But she just couldn't take it anymore. The deaths of so many she had held dear pushed on her, and she couldn't even imagine what this must be like for Harry, who had been in the thick of it for all this time. She vowed to herself that no matter what happened, she'd help him get through this, and she had a strong feeling he'd help her in return.

Finally, their sobs subsided, and they just lay in each other's arms, content in the knowledge that after all this time, after this long, horrifying, strenuous journey, they were finally together again.

"Thanks, Gin," Harry croaked, lifting his head from Ginny's chest. "We ... we're going to be okay, aren't we?"

Ginny looked into his beautiful, tear-filled emerald eyes, answering in the same soft voice he had used. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be okay."

And as they continued to lie there, they knew that their words were true. They knew they had a lot to talk about, a lot to get through; they knew there were wounds which hadn't at all started healing yet and wouldn't for a long time. There was the sense of betrayal Ginny had felt at being left behind, the suffocating anguish she had felt at being stuck in the Room of Requirement while her whole family fought a war which was just as much her fight as theirs, there was the numbness and horror of watching Hagrid carry Harry's apparently-dead body in his arms out of the Forbidden Forest. There was so much feeling bottled up inside her, she knew it had to be let out at some point. But for now, she and Harry gripped each other tightly, knowing that they had all the time in the world now to talk, and to love one another without anyone or anything tearing them apart ever again. "Stay?" she whispered to him.

"Yes, Ginny." Harry replied softly, stroking her hair. "I'll stay." 


	2. United in Grief

Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

Thanks so much for the high praise of the beginning of this story! I hope you guys continue to enjoy it!

Chapter 2: United in Grief

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione walked from Dumbledore's office back to the Great Hall. They knew Harry needed time to gather his thoughts after all that had happened, and hopefully Ginny and he would be able to spend some much-needed time together. Ron knew he had to go and see his family now, and he felt comforted by Hermione coming to support him.

When they reached the Great Hall, a pit of dread formed in the bottom of Ron's stomach. He'd been trying not to think about it in Dumbledore's office, but he knew that now he had to face the loss of his brother Fred. He'd be in the Great Hall, the rest of his family still surrounding him. Fred, dead ... the thought was unfathomable. Fred had seemed so alive, as if he were immortal. The thought of him lying on the floor, no sparkle left in his eyes, no mischief, no intelligence, no life, was mind-boggling and so, so devastating.

"It's going to be all right, Ron," said Hermione gently as he hesitated at the doors. "I'll be here with you the whole time. Come on, Ron."

So, slowly, they opened the doors and entered the room. No sooner had they got there than the sound of the room's occupants assaulted them. They could hear the sobs of several people as they surrounded their loved ones who had not survived the battle, with others comforting them. The noises made Ron's heart rip in two. He searched the room, looking for the familiar mass of redheads.

After a moment, he found them. They were all still grouped around Fred, with George still kneeling at his twin's head, his entire body heaving with anguished sobs. Quickly, and holding Hermione's hand for support, he walked over.

His father was the first one to spot the couple. Standing up, he held his arms open for them. "Ron, my boy," he said softly as he hugged him. "And Hermione." He embraced her as well. "I'm so, so relieved. Thank Merlin you two are okay."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said just as softly. "You, too. I'm ... I'm so sorry about Fred."

Mr. Weasley just gave her a shaky smile, but gratitude was in his eyes. "Molly," he whispered, walking over to his sobbing wife and putting an arm around her. "Molly, Ron and Hermione are here."

Molly lifted her tearstained face from her hands and stared at her son, her son who had grown up so much in the last year. "Oh, Ronnie," she whimpered as she ran over and threw herself at him. "Oh, my Ronnie. Oh, my poor baby."

"Mum," Ron said thickly, tears gathering in his eyes. In the past, he'd always been embarrassed when his mother acted this way, but now, he couldn't care less. He let her hug him, so relieved to be back with his family again. "It's okay, Mum. It's okay. I'm here now."

Mrs. Weasley continued to sob, pulling Hermione into the embrace. All three held each other for several minutes, feeling crushing grief and incredible relief in equal measure.

When they finally let go, Ron and Hermione slowly walked over to where George was kneeling. They saw that Percy was embracing him, tears pouring down his face. George held Fred's hand in a firm grip, looking into his twin's frozen face, his lifeless eyes still staring into nothingness. George was gazing straight into them, trying in vain to establish a connection which was not there anymore. "Freddie," he moaned over and over again as his shoulders heaved. "Freddie, Freddie, Freddie, no, no, no, no, no."

"George," said Percy softly, his own voice thick with misery and guilt. "Georgie, we have to move Fred now. We have to move him to the chamber off the Great Hall."

"No," said George as he continued to stare into Fred's eyes. "No, no, no. I don't want ... I don't want to leave him."

"He's gone, George," Percy said, squeezing his little brother tightly. "There's nothing we can do for him now but make him comfortable. I'm so sorry, so, so sorry." He tenderly reached out to close Fred's eyes, but George suddenly let out a harsh shout.

"Don't touch him!" he hollered. "Don't touch him!" His whole body shook as howls emanated from his throat.

"George ..." Ron whispered as tears began to flow from his own eyes. The scene in front of him was heartbreaking - he'd never seen his brother so broken. "George, he would want you to let him go."

"No!" screamed George, squeezing Fred's hand in a death-grip now. "No, no, no! I can't leave him, I won't leave him! You can't take him from me!"

Ron turned away from George, and buried his face in Hermione's robes. She was crying as well, and the two clung to each other as they witnessed members of the Weasley family gently try to relinquish Fred's hand from George's grip. "Why?" Ron sobbed into Hermione's bloodstained robes. "Why did this have to happen? I can't watch this, I can't take it. We have to get out of here."

Silently, Hermione agreed. No matter how selfish it seemed, her heart could not take anymore, and she knew that Ron was about to explode with the bottled-up rage and grief. She shot Mr. Weasley an apologetic look and mouthed, "We'll be back in a bit."

Mr. Weasley, though, seemed to understand. He nodded somberly, and Hermione gently took Ron's hand and guided him out of the Great Hall. She walked down corridors, tears blinding her, until she found an empty classroom. Steering Ron inside, she sank to the floor, bringing Ron down with her.

And for the next few minutes, she simply held him for dear life as Ron wailed. "Why?" he shouted between hysterical sobs. "Why did it have to be him? Why Fred? Why George? Bloody hell, Hermione, WHY?"

Hermione didn't answer, because she knew there was nothing she could say. All she could do was simply hold him, letting her tears fall as the same questions burned through her mind. Why did it take all this bloodshed for the war to finally end? Why did they, at only eighteen years old, have to witness such cruelty? Why did the world have to be so damaged?

After several minutes, Ron's screams and sobs finally subsided, and he lifted his head from Hermione's robes, his face red and blotchy. "I'm sorry," he croaked hoarsely. "I ... I didn't mean to fall apart like that."

"Ron," Hermione said gently, her face close to his, "You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all. I promise you, Ron, I'm going to help you get through this. We'll get through this together, I swear."

And without even thinking about it, Ron leaned into her and kissed her, putting all the raw emotion of the last several hours into it. Hermione kissed back just as fiercely. This was just as intense as the one they'd shared during the battle.

After several seconds, they pulled away, and Hermione managed a shaky smile. "We'll be okay, won't we?" she asked, taking Ron's hand within hers.

"We ... we will," Ron replied, letting out a shuddering sigh. "But please stay with me, Hermione. I need you. Please."

"Don't worry," said Hermione gently, hugging him to her again. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise you that."

And sitting there in that empty classroom, holding onto one another like they would break if they let go, Ron and Hermione knew that the road in front of them would be long and treacherous, but they would ride out the storm together. 


	3. An Ocean of Guilt

Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

Thanks so much for the reviews! I am so glad you guys are enjoying the story.

Now, for this chapter, I have decided to branch out and do someone else's point of view other than our trio and Ginny. I will do the same for other chapters of this story, and I hope you guys don't mind. I just thought it would be an interesting twist to the story. Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 3: An Ocean of Guilt

As Percy Weasley held his little brother, George, in his arms after their father had finally pried Fred from his grip and taken him to the chamber off the Great Hall where the dead were being laid, he was completely smothered in guilt. The sound of George's screams and sobs assaulted his ears, and he hugged him even tighter, wanting nothing more than to take his debilitating pain away.

God, Percy, you've been such a fool, and so, so stupid, he thought savagely. He had left his family, abandoned them when they needed him most, and the fact that he had realized his error and come back to them did not lessen the guilt at all. His pride had gotten the better of him, even when he'd learned that Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore had been speaking the truth about Voldemort's return the whole time.

Yes, he had to admit that in the beginning, he hadn't believed them at all. He remembered the night of the third task, when Harry had returned from the maze clutching Cedric's body and sobbing, "He's back! He's back! Cedric ... I couldn't leave him there ..."

Percy had at first thought that he was mad. He hadn't trusted Harry from the first moment he met him. From his perspective, Harry had led Ron and Ginny into more trouble than they could afford to be in. What made it worse was that his parents practically worshiped the ground he walked on, and found no problem in almost adopting him. Percy thought they were blind, not seeing that the boy would eventually get a member of their family killed.

But over the past little while, especially the past year, his mind had changed about Harry. He came to see that Harry had been doing the right thing, to fight the evil in the world. He came to be proud of his family instead of resenting them for following Harry, knowing deep down that they were trying to battle the injustices of society. He came to understand that Harry was not forcing them to go along with him; as a matter of fact, he was just as wary of them fighting with him as Percy had been, if not more. Being involved with the Ministry this past year had taught Percy that if good men did nothing, evil would most definitely flourish.

And even now, when fighting with Harry had resulted in a terrible outcome for the Weasley family, Percy still did not blame him. Instead, he blamed himself ... if only he hadn't distracted Fred by telling a joke! Fred and George had always teased and taunted Percy for being so serious all the time, and the one time he'd tried to please Fred by smiling and goofing off, it resulted in his little brother dead in his arms. Oh, the irony.

He thought of the utter devastation on Harry's face after it had happened, and felt even more guilt squeeze his heart. He knew the young man was blaming himself, knew he had been thrust into a position he didn't want to be in, and Percy felt sick to know that a few years ago, he would have blamed Harry as well. What kind of person does that make me? he thought to himself.

It also broke his heart to know that he'd had Fred's forgiveness before he died. This fact might have made another person feel better, but not Percy. Instead, it made him feel worse, because he felt he didn't deserve Fred's forgiveness.

Percy continued to cry as he still held a wailing George in his arms. "Oh, Georgie," he crooned as he rubbed his little brother's back in comfort. "Oh, Georgie, I'm so, so sorry."

"Perce," George howled as his entire body shook. "Oh, Perce, what am I supposed to do now? I can't do this without him ... Perce ... help me!"

Never, in his entire life, had George ever asked Percy for help, which showed him just how broken the young man was. Another tidal wave of grief swept over Percy, and he rocked George back and forth, his hands reaching up and stroking his hair.

"I'm never leaving you again," he said softly through his sobs. "I promise you, George, I'm going to be here from now on. We'll be okay, George, I promise."

Percy felt another arm squeeze his shoulder, and he turned his sopping wet face and saw his father. Guilt seized him again - he had been so horrible to the man standing before him. Granted, Arthur had not been nice to him either; they'd both cast low blows during their big argument, but Percy knew he was the one who really needed to apologize. "I'm so sorry, Dad," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

"You're home now, son," Arthur said, his own face wet. "You're home now, and that's all that matters."

This only made the tears come faster, and Percy fiercely embraced his father on one side, keeping George on the other. The three held each other close, carried on the waves of grief which didn't seem to be letting up at all.

Finally, Arthur said, "Fred ... Fred is in the chamber now. He's lying next to Remus and Tonks."

"Freddie ..." George moaned, his shoulders still shaking. "Freddie ..."

"I know, son," Arthur soothed. "I know."

And as the embrace continued, Percy knew he would have to battle this guilt for a long, long time. He knew his family would be there for him through it all ... they had proved to him time and time again that they were strong ... but Percy honestly didn't know whether he could be like them. He didn't know whether he would be strong enough to survive the fallout from the war. But he vowed to himself that he would do all he could to help them fight their demons, because after all, he was never, ever leaving them again. Never. 


End file.
